Americana - Girl of constant sorrow

I am a girl of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I bid farewell to old Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised

My mother, how I hated to leave her
Mother dear, now she is dead
But I had to go and leave her
So my children could have bread

Perhaps, dear friends, you're a wondering
What the miners eat and wear
This question I will try to answer
For I'm sure that it is fair

For breakfast we have bulldog gravy
For supper we have beans and bread
For the miners don't have any dinner
Just a tick of straw that we call a bed

For our clothes be always ragged
And our feet be always bare
And I'm sure if there's a heaven
That the miners will be there